Grumpy Dog

Hey, hey, mama, said the way you move
Gonna make you sweat, gonna make you groove..."

One of the cool things about having a Led Zeppelin ringer is that...you have a Led Zeppelin ringer. One of the sucky things about having a Led Zeppelin ringer is that you tend to build a Pavlovian aversion to it (and Led by default) if you kept getting hit with crappy and/or annoying news after hearing it. I was woken up by Black Dog at 8:20 this morning when a coworker called and asked me to work for him. On my day off. My precious precious day off. The only reason I agreed and got out of bed was because I thought my manager would be by her lonesome. So imagine my surprise when I get a call from her when I'm about six blocks from the store asking me whether said co-worker told me NOT to come in because she wasn't going to pay overtime. I told her there was no way in hell I was going to go home, since I was already dressed, semi-coherent, and FIVE BLOCKS AWAY on the bus, no less. And imagine my double surprise when the stock worker I was told (by said co-worker) that was out today was actually in when I walked through the door. So tomorrow I'm going to head in three hours later. And I'm sitting here, typing entries on the POS, waiting for 12 to strike so I can get the fuck out of here.


Other things:
*In unrelated, yumm-tastic news: never has evil been so damned hot.

*Why do people think that Radioshack is a customer service line? No, don't ask me to fix your cellphone or program your remote or diagnosis your camera problem over the damned phone. I'm not a miracle worker. And don't get pissed when I ask you to come to the store to help you better. Lazy prick.

*I hate my damned co-workers. Grr.

::head scratch::

Why is it that when I'm convinced I look like shit and am the most hideous creature in the world, someone semi-decent looking stranger gives me an appearance-oriented compliment? Which one am I? Ugly or okay looking? Because I damn sure ain't beautiful. I spent the entire walk to the 3 trying to forget what he said and was only semi-successful. Stuff like that, far from flattering me, confuses me and makes me run the other way.

*
Totally unrelated (or not; but they're not that impressive): why do my breasts always get in the way? It's ridiculous. They're fuckin' stain magnets. Spillage, crumbs, small animals (well, maybe not, but it seems that way) they all end up decorating my bosom. Dammit. Everything's against me.
*

Because the e-mail reply notification glitch-fix thinggey they have going on I've been getting all sorts of replies to comments/posts from a couple of months back. Heh. All those times I thought people were slacking off and ignoring me they actually replied but I just didn't get notification. Such is life.

Ye Gods!

The handheld pulsating showerhead in our upstairs bathroom has been removed and is scheduled to be replaced by one of those stationary run-of-the-mill ones.



A moment of silence, please, for the death of my current sex life.